


The One With The Little Red Notebook

by MsJackofAllFandoms



Category: McFly
Genre: Band House Era, Diary/Journal, Dougie's a bit of an idiot, Gen, Internal angst, Losing a diary, Tom Fletcher is the band mum, casual sexism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-25 16:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12039780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsJackofAllFandoms/pseuds/MsJackofAllFandoms
Summary: First of all, I wrote most of this way back in 2009 but only finished it back in 2014.Dougie loses his very secret journal in the band house. Anyone could have taken it, anyone could have read it, and there's only one bandmate he can go to for help looking for it: Tom.





	1. Chapter 1

Dougie first learnt that privacy didn't exist within a band after he'd been living with the other members for about a month. Of course, in the beginning, there was always those "getting to know you" conversations. And those games of truth or dare. And those bits of information their mothers just had on tap for all the others to hear, or plain and simple snooping on the other's parts. But that was always in the name of fun.

The fun stopped one morning when Dougie woke up at stupid o'clock. The sun was barely up, everyone else in the house was asleep and the only thing Dougie could do without disturbing them, was to write in his diary. It wasn't a daily thing, maybe just a... frequent thing. Entries every so often, more so when he was alone, of thoughts written down when he knew he'd need to look back, even just to see how things had changed. But it was still a very personal item to him, so to find it missing and not where he usually kept it, made his body freeze in panic.

He tried to remain calm. _'Maybe I just put it somewhere else for a change?'_ he thought. It wouldn't be the first time he'd thought he'd lost it, only to find it was hidden behind his bed, under his bed, under a shoe box...

This time, he wasn't so lucky and by the time he'd given up searching, the sun was fully up and his room was a _mess_. He was even surprised to find that even still, no one else was awake, considering the noise he must have made during his thorough search. Having no other option, he sighed in defeat and went to enlist help.  
  


Approaching the sleeping figure in their bed, he gently shook them and whispered their name. When that didn't work, he went closer and shook them again. "Tom. Tom wake up." Still the figure slept on, so mustering courage from god knows where, he shook the elder and shouted his name...in a whispering tone, anyway. "Tom!"

Startled awake, Tom turned over to face whoever awoke him. "What? What's wrong?"

The boy before him chewed on his lip and looked younger than his 15 years. "Erm... I need your help."

Tom sat up and squinted. "With what? Are you alright? What's the time?" Not giving Dougie the chance to answer, Tom looked over at his bedside clock to find it was only just passed 7am, and groaned. It wasn't the earliest that he'd woken up, obviously, but usually early starts follow on from early nights and last night was definitely not an early night.

Dougie sat down on the edge of Tom's bed and hesitated. "Er. Ok, you can’t laugh.", Flickering his eyes towards Tom, he saw the elder nod for him to continue, "But erm, I think, er-"

"Spit it out, Dougie."

"Well, i've lost my... notebook."

Tom pulled a face and tried not to sound too exasperated. "You've lost your notebook? Dougie, can't this wait till later?"

"No! I mean...Please Tom? I need to find it."

Not being able to say no to his pleading bandmate opposite him, Tom pushed aside his need to sleep and rubbed his hand over his face. "Ok." he started, "Ok, what does it look like?" Tom got out of bed and looked for some sort of clothing to put on, whilst Dougie went on to describe his so called _Notebook_.

"Well, it's a book. Like a notebook. With, erm, paper inside. Writing."

Tom rolled his eyes and put a tshirt on over his head. "Ok, I get that it's a notebook. Colour? Size? Where you had it last?"

"Oh, erm. Red with stripes, A5, and, well, er, I don't know. I mean, I thought I had it in my room, but it's not there."

"You sure?"

Dougie nodded, "I completely _ransacked_ my room. It's just not there."

"Alright, dude, calm down. I'll help you look." Tom nodded to his doorway-that-lacked-a-door, "Downstairs?"

Dougie shrugged. "Yeah, all right."

Once downstairs they headed towards the living room, neither knowing where to start. Dougie was so sure that he'd only had it in his room, but whenever he was alone in the house, he did take it downstairs with him and write whilst watching the TV. Therefore, it was a possibility that his diary had been downstairs since the last time he wrote in it.

"So, this notebook..." Tom started gently, "Is it important to you?"

Dougie tried to avoid eye contact and nodded. "Hmhmm."

"Like a Diary?"

Dougie scrunched up his face momentarily and looked back at Tom. "Don't tell the others, please?"

Tom shook his head. "I won't. Unless... you know they might have seen it, don't you?

Dougie openly grimaced. "Don't...Don't say that."

"Sorry dude, but it is a possibility. But, lets just try and find it, yeah? Try not to worry about that."  
  


And so they started on the couch and moved it, looked behind the cushions, underneath the seats, lifted it up, and moved it back... and then every other piece of furniture in the room got the same treatment. Much to Dougie's disappointment, it was without success.

"Do you have any idea where else you could have had it?"

Dougie shook his head, "No.” and then sighed, “I've had it once or twice down here. I- When you and Harry went out for that pizza, I had it down here somewhere then. But, that was a couple of weeks ago! And I couldn't really write in it anyway. I kept stopping every time Danny walked near the room." Dougie flicked his eyes once again to Tom and then went over to their DVD cabinet to look through it.

Tom wasn't sure what to say to that. He knew Dougie could be a private person, but he never thought Dougie would have a diary, especially one that's obviously meant for his own eyes only. Tom stood in silence for a second, thinking to himself. _'There's always more to this boy than you think...'_. Walking to stand beside Dougie, he gently patted him on the arm.

"Kitchen?"

"Might as well check."

Tom lead the way and turned back to see Dougie anxiously chewing on his lip. He knew he shouldn't ask, but Tom knew he couldn't help wonder what exactly was written in this very secret notebook/diary that had Dougie fretting like this. _'What secret could be big enough that he didn't want people knowing?'_ He tried to get his thoughts to stop there, but with every glance towards the youngest member of the band, a new suggestion came into his head.

Dougie suddenly went wide eyed and yelled. "Ahah!"

"What? You found it?" Tom twirled around the spot to look where Dougie was looking.

"No, I found a battery. My CD remote kinda needs one. Ermm..." Mumbling despite himself, Dougie picked up the lone battery from off the counter and pocketed it.

"Ok, well, you check those cupboards, I'll check these, and then we'll both look through the refrigerator."

Dougie made a disgusted face. "I'm not looking through the fridge, dude! It's like mould central. It smells so bad."

"I know. We'll probably die of toxic inhalation, but it's your diary, not mine."  
  


Dougie knelt down to look through the floor cupboards. Tom, meanwhile, was on the opposite side of the kitchen, looking through the wall cupboards.

"It's probably your mould."

"It's Danny's, actually. He just eats things and puts it in the fridge, forgets, takes it out, sees it's mouldy, put's it back. Lather rinse repeat."

"Well I wouldn't have put it in there."

"I know, but, Dougie, you know..." Tom looked at the youngest band member meaningfully.

Dougie whimpered and nodded at the unspoken suggestion. One of the others might have moved it, and put in there as a joke, and that same someone could have read through it. It was all enough to make him feel very queasy, and that before he started thinking about the smell of mouldy food... It made him groan.  
  


Going against his better judgement, Tom stopped what he was doing and returned to the younger one's side. "We're all good friends, right?". Dougie nodded in response. "So, just- just so you know, you don't need to keep secrets. I mean, obviously you're allowed to have them, but if something bothers you, you _can_ come to one of us, you know? Me, or Harry, preferably. Not that Danny's bad at advice or anything, cos he can be good at it. But certain types of advice. Me and Harry, we're quite universal." Tom tried an encouraging smile, but Dougie didn't look any better for it. He just nodded along, worriedly.

He stood for a few minutes in thought, chewing the side of his lip. "It's not... It's not like a girly diary. I don't talk about how my day went, or who said what to who ever else, or shit like that. I just write. But it's like..." He struggled to find the right words and thought for a moment. "It's like... important, to me, to look back and stuff. And it's more of the how i write, not the what. And, I can't explain it. But I need to find it, Tom."

"We'll find it. Even if we have to tear this house apart and piss Fletch off, we'll find it.” There was a brief moment of awkward silence before Tom breathed out heavily and smiled again. “Back to the Cupboards, young Douglas. The fridge awaits our attention."

Dougie groaned again, but knelt back down. As Tom returned to the cupboards on the wall, he heared Dougie grumble "Man, i'm not looking in that fridge."

"I'll make you a deal. We both look through the fridge and I'll get really angry at whoever put it in there. I'll even make them cry."

"What if it's Danny?"

"Especially if it's Danny. If there's one thing I learnt whilst being cooked up in that hotel room for all those months, it's what makes Danny cry."

"That's cruel... I like it."  They both grinned conspiringly at each other.

"Yeah," Tom chuckled, "I thought you might."  
  


After working their way through the various cupboards and drawers, as well as the bread bin and toaster, they had only one place to check in the kitchen. The dreaded fridge. Tom and Dougie looked at each other and held a similar facial expression. Disgust.

Approaching the fridge like it was some leary animal, the younger blonde turned to Tom. "Shouldn't we wear protective clothing to go near this?"

"Probably." Replied Tom, smiling wryly. Mostly for the comedic value, Tom, with one part genuine apprehension, opened the fridge door slowly. Both of them were met with a tangy, sour smell, and the sight of remnants of forgotten fruit which could have walked out of the fridge by themselves and cold leftovers that were probably a cure for cancer at that point.

Other than that, the refrigerator was empty. The door held a few eggs in the egg tray and two small cartons of fruit juice, but no red notebook.

Tom turned to Dougie. "Freezer's frozen shut. Guess I won't be making Danny cry afterall."

"Damn."

Tom closed the fridge door and there was a pause of silence whilst they both thought.

"Do you...." started Dougie, "I mean, you don't think, if one of them- would they have it, like, in their rooms? If they did take it?"  
  


The thought had passed Tom's mind, and then so did the idea of Danny's smelly socks all strewn all over the floor. "Eugh! Danny's room. We're lucky we survived the fridge!"

"I was just thinking out loud. I don't know where else it could be."

"I know. I was just-" Tom stopped talking when he noticed Dougie's wide eyes and open mouth. "What?"

Dougie stood in shock and pointed to the window ledge.

 

There, placed between their potted plant and the wall was a red, stripey notebook. Size A5. With paper inside which no doubt, had writing on it.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The diary has been found. But, did someone take it deliberately and did they take it?

 

 

_Dougie stood in shock and pointed to the window ledge. There, placed between their potted plant and the wall was a red, stripey notebook. Size A5. With paper inside which no doubt, had writing on it._  
_  
_ Tom followed where Dougie was looking, "By Jerome? ...Is that...?"

 "Errr..." Dougie walked up to it and pulled it from it's hiding place. Tom couldn't believe it possible, but his eyes went even wider with something even more shocking.

"What!?" Asked Tom.

Dougie's voice shook as he spoke. "There's erm-"

Tom, once again, approached Dougie's side and looked down at the notebook in the younger boy's hands. Attached to the notebook with a bit of cellotape, was a piece of folded over paper.

"I think it's a note. I…er, I…” He tried to say more, but after a few stuttering attempts, he gave up.

Tom gestured to Dougie's hands, "Do you want me to read it? The note, I mean?"

Dougie nodded, unable to face what the note might say. Tom looked around to the dining table and gently pulled on Dougie's arm to guide him over to it. Sitting down, he passed the book over to Tom, who carefully pulled the note off and opened it up.

"It's Harry's writing." Tom said gently

  
Dougie worried his lip. "Ok."

"It says. _Pugsley. Just found this in with the washing and realised it belonged to you. I didn't want to wake you up and didn't think you'd see if i'd have just left it on the landing. Hopefully you found it alright, I know what your like for feeding Jerome!_

_See you later,_

_Harry._

_P.S, it's about half 1 in the morning, and no, I don't know why i'm doing washing at this time. I just am._ " Tom looked across at Dougie to find him looking slightly relieved. But only slightly. Smiling, he said, "At least it wasn't in the fridge."  
  


Dougie smiled back weakly. "Yeah."

“I don’t think he’ll have read it.”

"I know." Dougie replied, nodding. "But-" he went to continue, but stopped.

Tom put the notebook on the table and slid it over to Dougie. "But?...", he prompted.

Dougie began to chew on his lip again. Tom was starting to worry that if he kept at it, he wouldn't have much of a lip left. After a few minutes of silence and lip chewing, Dougie shook his head and smiled again. It was a genuine smile, but a bit on the weaker side. "Never mind. Just glad it's been found."

Tom nodded. "Then so am I." he smiled, "But remember what I said before. We're here for each other, yeah?"

Dougie nodded. "Yeah."

Tom stood up slowly, "Will you be alright if I go back to bed?"

Dougie nodded again, distractedly, hugging his... _notebook_ to himself... "Yeah. I'm going too. I mean, to my bed. Obviously."

Tom snorted. "Yeah, I got that. Obviously."

Dougie stood up, diary and note in hand and followed Tom up the stairs. Before turning their respective directions, Dougie flashed a greatful smile at Tom and thanked him. Tom, rolling his eyes at the situation more than themselves, went over to Dougie and gave him a hug. Afterall, the boy had been through an emotional ordeal. It's not every day you think your privacy's been invaded and bit of your soul's been bared.

Tom gripped Dougie's shoulders firmly and spoke gently. "Don't forget what I said."

"I won't" Dougie replied, quietly.

 

~~

 

He closed the door behind himself and stretched. It was only just gone 8 and he’d already had a very stressful morning. He took in the state of his room and groaned, and he'd thought the day was going to get better!

But the tidying could wait until later.

 It was weird, he thought to himself, how much better he felt now the book was where he could see it; Where it belonged and where he knew it absolutely was. He sat staring at it for a while, to bask in the comfort of knowing that he could trust Harry to return such an important item to him instead of dicking around with him by doing something to it.

 ...Dougie's mind lurched with doubt heavily weighing on his mind once again. He needed to check through it just to be absolutely sure it was as touched as it looked.

He swallowed and breathed in calmly, then flicked through the pages.

And...  


…  


...Nothing. He sighed in relief, feeling the panic fade away again. The little red notebook had been left unmarked, unscathed and, almost assuredly, unread.

Dougie replaced the page marker ribbon that had come out of it's place, and smiled, and with an affection pat, he put it back it's designated hiding place. The place it should be in, even though it sometimes it wasn’t because it was buried underneath his bed or on the road, stuffed in the bottom of his rucksack, usually strategically placed underneath his smelliest sock.

 

As if a stage light went off in his head, he suddenly realised how it came to be in with his washing in the first place.

 


End file.
